A small cinnamon colored finger traced the exhaust of a star cruiser, as ignited rockel fuel lifted it skyward. Pointing to a sky aglow with intense oranges and reds, the small boy gasped in wonder as he had lost himself to the routine event. No matter how frequent cruiser launches were, it was always fascinating to the young, and those young in spirit.
The small boy’s finger remained steadied as the vessel vanished within the mist of the upper atmospheres. With the vessel no longer in sight, the boy remembered something important. “Dad,” he gasped, “was that the one Baqua was on?”
Looking up at his father, tugging away at his green artist garments, the boy patiently waited for a reply. It came quietly and sad, “yes, your brother was on that one.”
The young boy, wide eyed and smiling, gazed into the distance hoping to steal a glimpse of the departing star cruiser, and maybe his eldest brother.
Harsher than a moment before, his dad’s change of tone shook the boy from gazing, “Bergiere, what are you doing?”
“Looking at Baqua’s ship daddy.”
“What? Commander, you have two bogies on your six! I can’t get them off you.”
The young boy was surprised and beyond confused. Suddenly, as if by instinct, the boy’s hand closed into a fist as if he held something. It eased to the left and then the right, back and forward. His thumb made awkward motions, the boy did not understand.
The sky began to melt away, frightening the boy. It was replaced with a cold and deep blue, like the color of night but more haunting, empty, and beautiful. The young boy began to see twirling fighter ships, explosions, and so many stars he thought there was no space for any more.
Again, his fist went in odd directions, the thumb even more confusing with it repetiive patterns.
The boy looked up to where his father had been standing, but now his body began to disappear.
“Daddy?” the boy cried. He saw his father’s lips moving as they “went ghost”.
“Sir! That was amazing,” the ethereal voice of someone not his father sounded…
With the swift and calculated movement of his fist and thumb, wrapped around a directional shaft, Bergiere pilots his fighter behind an enemy flyer, turning it into cosmic dust.
The agile vessel dives and rises at the command of the skilled fighter-pilot. Enemy flyers transform into memory as the commander of Unit Blackfox skillfully and decisively destroys his targets.
“Oh man, that was close sir.” Rookie pilot Hester calls over the earpiece. “What happened to you?”
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